


All the Pretty Little Animals

by fencer_x



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 21:12:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15009554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: "Shion is dragged by his friends to a strip club. There, he meets Nezumi (bonus for drag!)" -- Kinkmeme request





	1. All the Pretty Little Animals

All things considered, it was _highly_ inappropriate, no matter how you looked at it. It was a weeknight, Rikiga-buchou had a wife, and Safu looked like she was on the verge of passing out from the thick haze of smoke that had settled just at face level. Why she'd even demanded to tag along was a mystery to Shion--it was a _strip club_ , and no matter how hard Rikiga-buchou tried to make it sound upscale and elegant and respectable, there were definitely some seedy characters in the audience, and the whole place left you with a chill of discomfort the moment you walked through the front door.

Shion himself would've honestly preferred being able to head straight back to his apartment and finish unpacking; living on his own for the first time in his life, and so far from home, in not only a new city but _Tokyo_ of all places… He had to look like a country bumpkin seeing the bright lights for the first time in his life, awed by the glitz and glamor around him and all but blind to the darker, dirtier bits that society tried to sweep under the rug.

He wasn't an idiot, though, and he wasn't ignorant of such places, but he was also still struggling to find his feet in the newness of it all, and while he understood the importance of making connections and forging friendships when entering a new company--Safu notwithstanding, since they'd been friends for as long as either could remember--the rush of everything was a bit overwhelming. Still, he wasn't going to keel over from a couple of hours in a risque dance club with his immediate superior who seemed intent on making Shion feel "welcome," and so here he found himself being roughly shoved down by the shoulders into a rickety wooden chair to share front row seats with his co-workers at _The Zoo_ in 2-chome of Kabukicho on a Tuesday evening in May.

At least the place lived up to its name; the dim lights and cool fog rolling along the ground gave it an exotic feel, helped along by the waitresses scurrying to and fro in revealing animal-print uniforms that made Shion blush and glance away quickly. Safu snorted at his reactions, having at last grown accustomed to the atmosphere, and sidled up closer, whispering _sotto voce_ , "Better be careful, they might lock _you_ up in here, too, if we take our eyes off you~"

Shion was about to offer a defensive retort when the house lights around the long catwalk stage dimmed and a series of whoops went up in response to a soft, rising _howl_ from the backstage area that set Shion's nerves on edge. Rikiga-buchou next to him started clapping and whistling, joined in by others when out onto the stage sauntered a short, slim young woman in a dress whose neck hung low and thigh slit ran high.

Her dark skin and hair was offset by the shimmering fabric that made up her dress, catching the lights on the stage and practically blinding anyone man enough to stare at her properly, of which Shion did not consider himself, and he politely glanced away when she paused right at the edge of the stage with her hips canted at an angle that surely must have been uncomfortable.

A sharp glissando crackled over the speakers, though, immediately setting her to dancing with sharp, staccato movements. This riled up the audience even more, and a few rowdier members started barking at her, or calling out _"Inu-chan!"_ Animals, the whole lot of them, Shion decided; workers and customers alike. The calls didn't seem to ruffle the young woman, though, who rather got into the act, shaking her ass as if wagging a tail before dropping to all fours in her elegant dress and sliding across the floor, revealing modest but present cleavage which must have particularly impressed someone, because a moment later and there was a loud yelp and "Inu-chan" was missing a stiletto, having apparently beaned a customer who got too grabby.

To her credit, she didn't interrupt her routine, and none of the others seemed particularly fazed by the incident either, one patron in the back whooping and calling out, "Inu-chan'll tear you to bits if you try to pet her!" Shion was grateful for the advice--more so for now knowing to warn Rikiga-buchou if he tried anything.

Safu to his right was frowning, nose wrinkled, and he smiled sadly at her reaction; he was grateful to have a friend with him to make the experience less awkward, but she was obviously even more uncomfortable than he was. "Sorry…" he apologized.

"Nothing for you to be sorry for," she returned stiffly, sitting straighter in her chair and placing her hands in her lap. Shion became conscious of her rather modest--even by office standards--clothing, the high collar and long sleeves likely to soon become stifling in the coming months when coupled with the skirts and tights she seemed fond of wearing. It suited her quite nicely, but was all the more stark a contrast in the present setting. He worried that she felt self-conscious, knowing a girl like Safu would never admit to such a thing. She sighed and glanced over at Rikiga-buchou, frown deepening, before abruptly standing. "I'm going to get us some drinks; perhaps that will make the time go faster."

"Thanks," Shion offered, and watched her go before having his attention demanded by Rikiga-buchou yanking on his shirt lapels. "Sir?"

"Pay attention to the entertainment, boy! This is my treat, after all--and my favorite's up next." Shion frowned and glanced around, realizing Inu-chan had departed the stage to mournful animalistic howls from the audience, and the lights were coming back up a bit. All around them, patrons were grumbling their disappointment and vacating their hard-fought positions at stage-side, grabbing their drinks and shaking their heads, now heading for corners of the bar occupied by pool and card tables. In their place, though, came new customers, each as salivating and eager as the one he'd replaced, and Shion felt another uneasy shiver creep up his spine. In his ear, Rikiga-buchou breathed in awe, "You'll never see as fine a form grace this stage as Eve, so straighten up and take her in."

Shion nodded slowly, wondering where Safu was with the drinks--he could use something to dull the senses right about now--and peered curiously around the empty stage. If possible, there were even _more_ in the audience now than for Inu-chan, and perhaps Rikiga-buchou hadn't been exaggerating when describing Eve's popularity. Was she really that beautiful?

The house lights dimmed again, and a hush settled across the floor; no loud whoops or cat-calls, only whispered excited prattling of _Nezumi, Nezumi!_ that mounted to almost a dull roar before being silenced in an instant by the rich, deep _dong_ of a bronzed bell echoing around the room.

Nezumi--or Eve, or whatever her name was--stepped out in a long, sheer dress that dragged the floor, a shawl around her shoulders and dark hair that draped over it, falling in silky, shiny ringlets that bounced with every regal step she took. It was nothing like the sultry saunter of Inu-chan, lacked any sort of invitation or sexual appeal (that Shion could tell--not that he'd been looking for that sort of thing; it was simple observation). It was a slow, stoic march that should have been boring but was instead altogether entrancing. Every eye was riveted to the long aisle stretching into the center of the room, quiet as death but with the tension of a live wire arcing through the crowd.

And then, she spoke--voice clear and full and commanding, addressing the audience as one: " _But I do think it is their husbands' faults if wives do fall: say that they slack their duties and pour our treasures--_ " She brushed a gloved hand down her side, letting it slip over the material down to the curve of her hip before brushing back up. " _\--into foreign laps, or else break out in peevish jealousies, throwing restraint upon us; or say they strike us, or scant our former having in despite._ "

She raised a finger, tut-tutting. " _Why, we have galls, and--though we have some grace--yet have we some revenge._ " She made a fist with one hand and pointed a finger into the audience with the other. " _Let husbands know: their wives have sense like them. They see and smell--_ " She brought a hand back to her face, wiping over her eyes and laying a finger aside her nose before brushing it across her lips, pink tongue darting out to nip softly, " _\--and have their palates both for sweet and sour, as husbands have._ "

Here, she let the shawl slide to the floor and began walking the stage from end to end, reciting her lines and stripping as she went--first one glove, then the other, then a slow, taunting draw of the zipper at her side before turning round and letting the dress peel down to reveal the curve of her spine disappearing into dark lace tights as she shimmied out of the cumbersome garment. " _What is it that they do when they change us for others? Is it sport? I think it is._ " She ran a hand through her hair, fingers splayed and raking long lines though the dark waves, before executing a sultry sway of the hips to step out of the dress entirely, shifting lightly onto bare feet and sauntering back down the length of the catwalk to center stage, bare, flat, masculine chest displayed for all to see. " _And doth affection breed it? I think it doth: is't frailty that thus errs? It is so too._ " She--he?--struck a wide-legged pose at the stage's edge, staring down into the crowd of eager onlookers, unwavering and unforgiving, seemingly as cold as the words falling from his lips.

" _And have not we affections, desires for sport, and frailty, as men have?_ " He raked his eyes around the room, seeming almost _bored_ with the act now, and Shion shifted in place, confused and yet as entranced as anyone else in the immediate vicinity. If Safu had returned with their drinks, he hadn't noticed. There was only Nezumi--or Eve, or did it really matter any more?--and a bare chest and bright lights and stifling quiet.

Shion breathed in sharply when Nezumi's judging, accusing gaze fell on him, struggling against his better senses not to be jerked along as Nezumi glanced away and on to the next pathetic onlooker. If he'd been in his right mind, he might have noticed the twitch to the man's lips that followed after the exchange, but as it was he was simply frozen in place, wide-eyed as the country bumpkin image he'd worked so hard to leave behind.

Nezumi slipped to his knees and then tumbled forward onto all fours, graceful and calculated, and spread his knees to crouch lower, still holding eye-contact with Shion and slinking closer. " _Then let them use us well: else let them know--the ills we do, their ills instruct us so._ " And he shifted his weight to support himself on one hand, using the other to lash out faster than any so entranced by his spell could have hoped to react, and grabbed Shion's collar with a grip strong enough to jerk him forward to crush their lips together, darting a tongue between his loose lips with a searching tongue tasting faintly of cigarettes and some sharp alcohol, before releasing him with a sharp _smack_ , sending Shion tumbling back into Rikiga-buchou's waiting grasp.

Nezumi then rose, cool and confident and completely unruffled save for a nigh unnoticeable rush to his breathing and a smile that bordered on triumphant. Hands on his hips, he ran a hand through his hair again to brush it from his eyes. "Shakespeare's _Othello_ ; act four, scene three." And without another word, he turned on his heel and padded silently down the stage and off through a side curtain, without so much as a final bow--after which the lounge area erupted in loud applause.

Beside him, Rikiga-buchou was excitedly shaking his shoulders, hissing at him, "You lucky little bastard--luckiest son-of-a-bitch here tonight, seriously!" Shion winced--at the language and the attention. "We don't have much time--Eve does one show an hour, and you'll want to take your time with her, I'm sure." He turned to Safu, who Shion now realized was standing behind them, her expression unreadable, holding two now thoroughly watered down drinks. "Safu-san, here--help me get him presentable. Take his jacket, will you. Just set those down anywhere." He waved off the drinks and instead jerked Shion up, whirling him around and straightening his shirt, ruffling his hair into a loose mess and clapping him on the shoulders again before whining in frustration. "It figures I bring you along and you go and take the goods; you just better not screw up back there. And--" He shook a finger in Shion's face. "--don't think this is any excuse to punch in late in the morning, you hear?"

Shion had no idea what was going on, but felt the appropriate response here was to nod, so he did, and this seemed to satisfy Rikiga-buchou, who immediately turned around and hailed a man in a slick suit, trading a few words and gesturing to Shion. The man nodded shortly and gestured to Shion to follow him, which he eventually was forced to do at Rikiga-buchou's gruff, "Well, go on then!" If Safu had anything to say on the matter, she didn't voice it, simply watching Shion be forcibly carted away with no idea what was going on.

"Wh--where are we going?" he eventually managed, tugging at the sleeve of his escort, but received no response. "Have I done something inappropriate? I understand it's probably not etiquette to--erm, touch the g-girls, but I didn't mean to, and if we're honest I'm actually pretty sure _she_ \--well, Nezumi-san? Erm, was the one to--"

"One guest; Nezumi," the man called out sharply when they reached a sliding door, and a moment later the panel slid back, and Shion found himself being guided through--traded off to another escort once safely across the threshold.

"Follow me," were his only instructions, and Shion glanced back in concern, almost missing his previous escort; at least Rikiga-buchou had known the man. Who was to say what was going to happen to him now that he was in a stranger's hands. His feet followed obediently, however, and he somehow managed to navigate the corridors in the bowels of _The Zoo_ with minimal difficulty, eventually coming to a stop in front of a thick wooden door gilded in gold lame. He squinted in the low light, trying to make out the name plate, but had his efforts interrupted by his guide.

"Knock three times, and only after obtaining a response may you enter. If not response is given, wait one minute and try another series of three. If still none is given, please return to the lounge." Shion's chest tightened in panic; how was he supposed to find his way out again?! He hadn't bee paying attention at all on the way here. "You may stay until, at most, five minutes before the next performance. Please vacate the premises by or before then, at the occupant's request. Enjoy your evening."

And with a short bow departed the only person who could possibly explain what was going on. Shion considered for one wild moment running after him, clinging to the edges of his well-tailored black suit and begging to be escorted back to his friends, because whatever was behind that door was probably not something he needed to get involved with at all. But he hesitated, and with that hesitation so disappeared his only chance at turning back.

He gulped, swallowing his nerves, and raised a hand to rap thrice on the door.

The lock unlatched with a loud click on the second, before he even finished.

"Took you long enough," grumbled the occupant, relaxing against the door as he pulled it open just enough to peek out at his visitor. He was still wearing the tight lace stockings, but had donned a light tank top and pulled his hair into a high ponytail. What little Shion could see of the room beyond him was decorated sparsely and smelled of the beginnings of mildew overlaid with thick perfumes and powder. "Thought you'd gotten lost. Or changed your mind."

Nezumi pulled away and stepped back over to his station, that same sway to his hips apparently evident in his private study as on stage, and Shion forced himself to glance away, instead focusing on the rest of the room. "Just…they told me to follow them, I wasn't sure what…"

He started when Nezumi let out a loud bark of laughter, slumping down onto a small, squeaky mattress in the corner. "I haven't heard that one before. So, you gonna stand there all night? You've only got maybe a half hour, you know, and--" He frowned and shook a finger. "No extending your time just cause you can't get it up again quick enough for two rounds." And with this, he pulled his shirt up and over his head, shaking the band from his hair to let it fall around his shoulders again. "And I won't do any nasty shit. If you have to ask if something's 'nasty shit', then that's probably a good indication that it is." He shifted onto the bed, poking around at the head for something he'd obviously misplaced, before realizing Shion was still standing, frozen stupidly, in the doorframe. He frowned, sighing in frustration. "Get your ass inside already. And shut the door; it's fucking annoying having everyone gawking."

Shion jerked to attention, scrambling to do as requested, and reflected in his mind that Nezumi behind closed doors was quite a bit cruder than the graceful portrait of beauty he portrayed on stage. Nezumi beckoned him closer, expression bored, and Shion took a few tentative steps closer, closing the distance between them and letting himself relax; he obviously wasn't in trouble, or else he would've been taken to the manager and not one of the dancers. He swallowed a lump in his throat and tried not to notice the plump roundness of Nezumi's ass thrust up into the air while he rooted around the edge of the mattress in search of something. Even if this was _that sort_ of place, it was rude. "Umm, your--performance. Before." Nezumi twisted around to glance over at Shion, one brow raised. "It was very nice; I enjoyed it."

Nezumi snorted and then released a small _ah!_ when he finally found whatever he'd been looking for. "You and every other drooling idiot on the floor."

Shion flushed, suddenly offended at being thought the same as all of the other patrons who'd been ogling Nezumi as he'd strutted down the walkway. He'd only been looking on in awe, hadn't he? And the others--Rikiga-buchou and the others, he could _feel_ it, quieter and calmer but just as quivering under the surface--theirs had been a decidedly more _desperate_ longing, a desire. "I--wasn't, I'm not--"

Nezumi rolled onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows and rolling his eyes with a fond curl of his lip. "Yeah yeah, I know. Why do you think I picked you anyways?"

"Eh? Picked...me?"

"You looked…" He cocked his head, raking his gaze along Shion's form. "…Sweet. Like you didn't belong." The fondness faded into a smirk now. "Like you could stand to let loose for an evening. Or, well--a half hour now, if we hurry." He scooted to the edge of the bed and tossed his legs over the side, lifting his hips and pulling the lace tights--and his underwear (if he'd even been wearing any; truthfully, Shion couldn't tell)--off in one smooth motion.

Shion actually _yelped_ , slapping a hand over his mouth. "What the--what are you _doing_?" When Nezumi glared up at him, incredulity creeping over his features, Shion continued in a babbled stream of confusion, "Sh-should I go? You need to get ready for your next act, huh? I'm sorry to have disturbed you!" He whirled around on his heel and reached for the door, but two fingers hooked themselves through the beltloops on his pants and jerked him forward until they were standing crotch-to-very-naked-crotch. "N--Nezumi…san?"

"…You are one weird dude. What the hell are you doing? Playing coy or some shit? You really don't have time for this, just so you know." He jerked a thumb to the clock on the wall. "You'd better be done, pants zipped and shirt buttoned, by five-til-eight, or you're leaving in whatever state you're in. You're cute--but not cute enough for me to miss my next act." He started shuffling backwards until his knees hit the bed and he went down, putting Shion's groin at eye-level. "You're shy, maybe? I don't mind taking the lead." He started unhooking Shion's belt, smirk widening into an outright grin. "Or--maybe you want _me_ to fuck _you_?" He lifted a brow in challenge. "I'm definitely down with that, too; it's been a while. Oh--but, you're still paying for the condom."

Shion snapped out of his dazed confusion when Nezumi's fingers dipped down to cup him through his pants, and he took a wild step back, covering himself with his hands. "Wh--what are you-- _why_ are you--you can't just touch people like that! That's--"

"Huh? You're back here in the first place 'cause you obviously want to be 'touched like that'." He added air quotes for effect, sneering. "This is on the house, you know--but if you're gonna be _weird_ about it--"

"I'm not being _weird_ ," Shion protested hotly, inching closer to the door and ignoring the fact that Nezumi was now completely naked and sitting on his bed waiting for Shion to join him. "You're the one who--I just came back here to…" He trailed off, throat going dry.

"'To…'?" Nezumi prompted, and when Shion couldn't figure out just why he'd come back here when somewhere inside he had to have at least suspected what sorts of things might go on behind the scenes in a strip club in 2-chome, he rolled his eyes and cast about for the stockings he'd discarded, toeing them on and turning around so Shion didn't have to get an eyeful. "It's a privilege, you know," he grunted, starting to feel a bit offended at the rejection. "You got the kiss--you get to fuck me. Or get fucked by me, I guess--if that's how you prefer it." He grabbed a tie from the makeup station and snapped his hair back into a loose ponytail. "It's just a business exchange; not like it has to be anything more." He glanced over his shoulder. "Unless--you're not into guys? Maybe Inukashi's more your type? I just assumed if you were in the audience for my segment, then you _knew--_ "

"It's not--" Shion bit out, and turned around, crossing his arms. "That has nothing to do with it. I simply don't want to have some sort of-- _encounter_ with a perfect stranger. It may seem old-fashioned, but I don't do that sort of thing. I only came here because my superior wanted to drag me out for a good time."

Nezumi's breath was hot on his ear, and he felt two hands pressing down on his shoulders, holding him in place. "Then you should just sit back and let me give you just that."

Shion rolled his shoulders to remove his grip, backing up against the door. "I'd rather not, thank you." Nezumi stared at him, ugly frown unmoving, and Shion worried for a moment that he'd real and truly offended him with his rejection. "I mean, that is to say--it's really just…not something I do."

"Casual sex?" Shion flushed, but nodded slowly, suddenly self-conscious; he really was in the wrong sort of establishment to go on about having _standards_ and being _above that sort of thing_ , and it really was rude to say so to the face of the person propositioning him, when it wasn't their fault he was--"Such a prude."

"Wh-- _excuse me_?"

Nezumi just laughed and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the door and back to the bed, using the momentum to shove him down while he returned to his makeup station, slipping into the high-backed chair in front of the mirror and picking through a small jewelry box while Shion gaped in shock. "Just sit down and shut up. You'll embarrass me if you leave before your time's up."

Shion glanced up at the clock from before--still another twenty minutes. "You always--take the whole time?"

Nezumi met his eye in the mirror, smirking as he powdered his face. "Always; I usually have to kick them out. I'm _that good_."

"I'll take your word for it…" Shion allowed, turning his gaze around the room and taking it all in. Nezumi seemed to thrive on attention, on stage and off, and Shion was feeling particularly petulant at the moment from being teased. "…You live here?"

A snort. "Of course not. You think I want to sleep in the same bed I fuck in?" Shion immediately leapt off the mattress, wiping himself off and staring in horror, and this set off a new wave of laughter. "God, you really _are_ a prude. They wash the sheets." As an afterthought, he added. "Once a week."

"That's--that's--"

"My job, so don't knock it." Shion frowned into the mirror. "…And don't feel sorry for me either. It's only till I make my break anyways."

"Your 'break'?" Shion reflected on the earlier performance. "…You're an actor?"

Nezumi shrugged, threading a gaudy pair of dangling earrings through his lobes. "I don't think you can call it that yet. But this is good enough practice for now."

Forgetting why he'd just vacated it, Shion sank back down onto the bed, watching Nezumi go through his ministrations in the mirror. "You're very good. It wasn't idle flattery."

"Are you a theatre critic?"

"Well, no--but, I'm sure there are others who thought the same as--"

Nezumi shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Must be nice, being as airheaded and innocent as you." Shion looked like he wanted to protest this as well, and Nezumi cut him off with, "Yeah yeah, I get it. I should take my compliments with a smile."

"I'm being serious," Shion reminded him, frown reflecting his disappointment in being so lightly brushed off. "You really like Shakespeare?"

"Hm? Oh." A shrug. "He's not bad for a guy dead four hundred years. Plus I think it lends me a certain elegance." He flipped his hair over his shoulder and batted his lashes at Shion. "Don't you think?" Shion glanced away again to hide his blush, and Nezumi laughed loudly. "So you _do_ like me! I was beginning to think you were straight."

"I'm _not_ \--I mean, you're very beautiful, or--handsome, or I--just, you look attractive, I assume, from an aesthetic point of view, and you seem to embody several elements that most might cite as important qualities when determining a romantic partner and--"

"Did you just say I have a nice _ass_? How sweet."

"I _didn't_ \--"

"So what's your name, anyways?"

"Eh?" Shion was thrown by the rather innocuous question.

"Your name--I figure if I'm supposed to have fucked you, we'd have traded names at some point. If I'm not going to get laid this evening, I may as well at least get your name out of it."

"Oh, ah--Shion."

"Shion...nice." There was a pause, and he caught Shion staring at him in the mirror. "What?"

"Your name? You're not going to tell me it's _Nezumi_ , right?"

"Hah--yeah right."

"Eve?"

"Not even close."

"…So?"

Nezumi smacked his lips in the mirror, rubbing them together to spread the rouge he'd just applied, before shifting out of the chair and reaching for a chiffon dress dyed in pale blues and pinks. "Hmm, I think I don't want to tell you."

Shion's voice rose with annoyance, and he stood, hands fisted at his sides. "Wha--why not?!"

"I don't feel like it?"

"But--I told you mine! That's not fair at all."

"True…" Nezumi reflected, tugging the side zip up and adjusting the straps on his shoulders. "I'll tell you--if you come again tomorrow night."

"What?" Shion blinked a few times in confusion. "But--I only came tonight because of Rikiga-buchou--and I've got matters to take care of since I've just moved, and this is hardly--"

Nezumi sidled up close. "Or you can fuck me right now and I'll tell you." A shrug. "I'm fine either way." Shion flushed and pulled away, putting physical distance between themselves in case Nezumi decided to make the choice himself. "But since I'm pretty sure you won't man up to do that, you'll have to come and visit again if you want to learn my name."

A pause. "…Can I just _guess_ and you tell me if I'm right or not?"

Nezumi pulled on his shawl and sashayed over, giving a little twirl as if to say _Well?_ before tilting his head to the side and kissing Shion on the cheek. "See you tomorrow, Shion."

* * *

Shion didn't know how he'd found his way to the main entrance of _The Zoo_ again, less than 24 hours after leaving the previous evening, but he was most certainly here, still in his stifling business suit, and tragically alone this time. He hadn't been able to bring himself to explain the horrific details of his time with Nezumi to Rikiga-buchou, no matter how much he'd poked and prodded and begged, and Safu had avoided him most of the day for reasons Shion could only imagine; hell, if he'd been physically able to, he probably would've avoided _himself_.

It wasn't as if he was expecting anything, and really it was just a _name_ \--it was probably something boring and common, like _Daisuke_ or _Eiji_ or _Jiroh_ , none of which very much seemed like they were worth showing his face in the lounge to hear. But logical as his conclusions were, they did nothing to still the movement of his feet towards the ticket gates leading up to the street surface from the subway, didn't stop him from settling in at a small table for one in the back of the lounge area and ordering something light, and definitely didn't stop him from swallowing thickly to settle his nerves and nodding his silent compliance when, a half hour after arriving, the same man who'd escorted him to Nezumi's room the night before made motions for Shion to follow him again.

The corridors were still as silent and imposing, but Shion made an effort today to memorize his steps, in case he needed to beat a hasty retreat, and soon found himself standing in front of the wooden door as yesterday. He glanced at the man, wondering what sort of lecture he'd receive this time, but all that was returned was a silent nod before he disappeared around a corner, leaving Shion alone to either knock or leave. Well, he'd come this far...

This time, Nezumi called to him to let himself in, and when he did, he found the man hunched over his makeup station, concentrating intently on threading a needle. "...Did I come at a bad time?"

"Nah--I just busted a seam on one of my dresses. Sit wherever you want while I finish this."

"Do you need help?"

"Can you sew?"

"No..."

"Then sit somewhere and talk to me. I'm bored."

Shion made a face, but slipped into a rickety folding chair off to the side. "You're at work... No one actually _complains_ about being bored at work."

Nezumi smiled, finally pushing the thread through successfully. "Not out loud, I guess."

"You're sure it's okay for me to be back here?"

"They wouldn't have brought you if it wasn't." He shrugged. "I can't imagine why they'd have any problems with it--it's not like we're doing anything wrong." He glanced up at Shion. "Right?"

"Of--of course not!" he answered a bit too quickly for his own good, and struggled to recover. "That is--I mean, I'm not even sure why I'm here..."

"I told you--" He snapped off the thread with his teeth. "--You're here to keep me company; I'm bored."

"Seriously? _That's_ it?"

"You have a better idea?"

"Well, no, but--it seems an awful lot of effort to go through just to have someone to talk to."

"Really? It's not to me..."

Shion cocked his head, confused. "Why not...I don't know, one of the other girls? Like 'Inu-chan'? Or one of your fans? They hardly seem in short supply."

"Inukashi hates my guts; and one of those thugs out there? Are you insane?" Shion didn't seem to get it. "Just--seriously, one of the pit customers? Here, in my room?" Shion shrugged, and Nezumi shook his head. "You really are an airheaded idiot..."

"Then--why me? I was down there, too, after all."

Nezumi whirled around and shook the needle in his direction, frowning. "You're not like them, that's why. I picked you, and I don't pick shitheads. You're here because you're a nice guy, even if you're a little dense and really prudish. So stop asking so many damn questions and tell me about your day."

"My--day?"

"Yeah, you know. Whatever it is straight-laced guys do all day when they're not getting dragged out to strip clubs with their bosses and girlfriends."

"Safu's not my--"

"Ooh, _Safu_ , huh? Now we're getting somewhere." He stabbed the needle into a small pincushion. "Tell me how you met."

* * *

By the time Nezumi released Shion, it was nearly midnight, and the last trains were leaving soon. "I won't get off until three," he reminded Shion when he protested that he'd stuck around this long, he might as well see Nezumi off. "You wouldn't want to wander around 2-chome after midnight anyways."

"If it's so dangerous, how's it any better for you to do the same?"

"Because I've worked here long enough to know how to keep my nose clean and stay out of trouble." He grabbed Shion's wrist and began to bodily drag him to the door, turning him round by the shoulders and kissing his cheek in farewell. " _Good night, sweet prince. And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest._ "

Shion frowned at the gesture, feeling rather like a child being sent to bed by its parent. "What's that from?"

" _Hamlet_."

"I'd like to hear more."

Nezumi shook his head. "Then go to a library and read it." He laughed loudly at the pout that followed. "You'll get over it."

"Oh--but," Shion started, and Nezumi rolled his eyes at a further distraction keeping Shion from making his last train. "You never told me it."

"What?"

"Your name. You promised if I came again tonight you'd tell me your real name."

"Yeah, I did..." He tapped his chin in mock thought. "Hmm, it's late--I'll tell you if you come tomorrow then. Or--" He added with a thin smile, "I'll tell you right now if you fuck me."

Shion took a step back, hand clenched tight on the door handle. "...Well I don't want to miss my train... Good night."

And thus passed the first in a long line of such exchanges. Each day blended into the next, Shion arriving home well after midnight, having had to take a taxi the final leg of his trip and yet never finding the drive to just leave earlier, following a familiar, routine exchange of asking for a name, being petitioned to wait another day or obtain it through payment in flesh, and a flustered, hurried refusal and _exeunt omnes_. Each day Nezumi pried a little deeper into Shion's life, listening to him prattle for hours about his mother, her bakery, his very boring office, his very not-boring coworkers, Safu and her grandmother--Nezumi had bristled a bit when Shion had laughingly admitted that she'd given him his first kiss, disguised as a birthday present--and how he'd once thought of becoming a meteorologist or a park ranger, but that he'd been worried neither would help him start a nest egg to take care of his mother in her golden years. Nezumi had called him _Mama's Boy_ , and Shion hadn't denied it.

But in their time together, between acts when Shion would occasionally help him into costume or straighten a crooked pin in his hair, Nezumi never spoke much about himself or his past, or how he'd started his job at _The Zoo_ , or even what steps he was taking to free himself from it. Shion wanted to press, wanted to ask so many questions, but Nezumi always got annoyed when he probed too deeply, quickly changing topics or making up a reason to vacate the room. Still always they parted, however, with a _come see me again tomorrow, or fuck me now and I'll tell you_ , common and expected enough now as Nezumi's kisses on the cheek that Shion no long blushed or brushed off either, simple nodding and turning on his heel to catch a train he missed half the time. It was worth it.

His work life was not much affected, as office work more often required merely a present warm body than any actual interaction or attention, so Shion found himself catching the occasional catnaps, woken by Safu's attentive coughing whenever Rikiga-buchou rounded a corner. He offered her sheepish grins and bought her coffee on breaks to make up for it, but she seemed more distant and loathe to discuss why, so he was left to simply stew in worry until distracted for the evening by Nezumi's excited tales of how Inukashi had nearly sent a guy to the emergency ward earlier in the afternoon for trying to pinch her ass. It wasn't quite the ideal, _normal_ life Shion had dreamed of finding once he'd settled into Tokyo, but it was...not distasteful. Not in the least.

"And then--" Nezumi shook an eyeliner pencil at him. "The asshole had the _gall_ to try and get her arrested for assault and battery! He should be grateful she didn't sic one of those yippy mutts she keeps in her quarters on him to bite his balls off." He shivered in disgust. "Men."

"You're a man, too, you know."

"Yeah, so are you. We're heathens, all of us. Only after one thing--" He glanced over at Shion where he lay on his back on the bed counting pits in the ceiling. "Well, most of us are only after one thing."

"Hm?"

"Nothing. Come check the back of this arrangement for me--fix the pins if anything's falling out where it shouldn't be."

Shion lazily rolled onto his feet, stomping over and brushing the hair from Nezumi's shoulders where it hung in familiar ringlets. He gently tilted Nezumi's head to one side, then the other, making _hmm_ ing sounds of investigation before clapping him on the shoulders. " _Beautiful--and therefore to be woo'd._ "

Nezumi blinked in the mirror. "...What did you say?"

"Ah!" Shion laughed nervously, stepping back. "You noticed?"

"No, just...what?"

"I took your advice."

"My--what?"

"Advice? About the library? It was one of the examples from a book of famous quotes--by Shakespeare." He scratched at the side of his mouth. "I forget which one it was, though... But I do mean to read them! You make them all sound so nice--it's only a bit daunting. Do you have any suggestions of where to start?"

"Oh, I don't--" He licked his lips and coughed. "I've got--stage. A number. I'll be back shortly." And with that he was gone in a flurry of skirts and perfume.

Shion watched the wooden door slam shut behind him with a confused frown, tinged with disappointment. Another innocent question, met with avoidance and a closed mind. It was difficult to get closer to someone when they refused to open up to you on any level. What was the harm in exploring things that obviously meant a great deal to Nezumi? Was he encroaching on his space with such efforts? Was he really so thrown, uncomfortable with Shion showing interest in his own field? It wasn't as if Shion was going to tag along with him to auditions and steal parts he was up for; it was simply trying to understand, to dissect the riddle of a person that was Nezumi--or whatever his real name was.

The ten or so minutes on stage appeared to have done Nezumi some good, for when he returned, it was stripped down to a tiny pair of thong underwear with two cocktails in hand, one of which he offered to Shion and the other which he downed himself in one long draw, sighing loudly and refusing to put on pants even when Shion tossed them in his face. "It's nothing you don't have yourself," he reasoned grumpily and leaned forward to take a catnap on his makeup station, humming gratefully when Shion placed a blanket over his shoulders and told him he was a stubborn ass and also a bit of an exhibitionist.

Two sets later, and it was time for Shion to be off for the night. Nezumi had finally agreed to don something resembling clothing--a hideous purple sweater that looked two generations too old to be worn by someone like Nezumi--and Shion was finishing what was left of his third cocktail of the evening, feeling quite happy with how the evening had gone and telling Nezumi as much. "Just don't throw up until you get into the hall--that's strong stuff you're downing, you know."

"Nezumi," he called softly, reaching out with his free hand and grabbing the edge of the sweater when Nezumi passed by where he sat on the edge of the bed, in search of a missing makeup bag. "When will you tell me your name?"

Nezumi froze, then shook his head and smiled softly, repeating as always, "I'll tell you--if you come again tomorrow night." Shion frowned. "Or you can fuck me right now, and I'll tell you then."

"You know, that's getting kind of old."

"You _must_ be drunk; propositions for sex will never get old, Shion." He tugged his sweater free and bent down to kiss his cheek, as always, but Shion shifted abruptly and bumped noses with him, bringing their lips together in a soft, feather-light kiss that broke with the momentum as quickly as it had been established. A beat of silence stretched between them, Shion's eyes accusing and challenging--daring Nezumi to say something about what he'd just done, and Nezumi coughed. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

* * *

"...What's this?" The man said nothing, simply turned on his heel, and Shion stared in confusion as he was left, alone at his table and with no invitation to join Nezumi in his room, with only a folded piece of paper with an address. No instructions, no directions, no indication of what was waiting at the address, and no Nezumi anywhere to be seen. He'd waited for a full rotation--with still no sign of a frilled skirt or familiar stocking-clad leg. Was he perhaps sick? Was this a hospital address, and the number a room where he'd find Nezumi broken and bashed by a rowdy fan who'd waited until Shion stumbled home, drunk and stinking of cigarettes and alcohol to confront Nezumi about why he hadn't taken any customers in nearly three weeks now?

Shion shook his head, banishing the wild, fanciful thoughts; calm and rational was the way to approach this, just like Safu always said. There was surely a perfectly logical explanation as to why Nezumi wasn't here tonight.

"It's my night off, duh."

Shion blinked stupidly, barely recognizing Nezumi with his hair up in a bun and wearing a comfortable pair of sweats with a t-shirt full of indecipherable English phrases that he was sure made no more sense to a native speaker. "You--get nights off?"

"Don't you?"

"Well, yeah--but you've never had one before, not the whole time I've been visiting."

Nezumi shrugged and invited Shion in, directing him where to place his shoes while he shuffled back into the kitchen to check the curry. "I work odd hours; most of us only get one free day a month."

"You could've mentioned it to me yesterday..." Shion didn't know why he felt a bit hurt at the whole thing, but he did.

"Hah--you were pretty out of it last night; I doubt you'd have remembered if I'd told you anyways." Was he covering up? Playing dumb? Or did he really, truly believe that Shion hadn't done what he had last night in his right mind. Well, it wasn't an entirely faulty line of thinking--Shion himself wasn't certain what had really come over him that he'd pulled such a rash action as trying to steal a kiss from someone who typically earned their wages selling them, especially when that someone was a person he counted as a friend, but...he didn't entirely regret it either. "Come on--curry's done and there's beer in the fridge."

Dinner was a meager affair, but Shion couldn't have asked for a better evening, especially one where he didn't have to cut their conversation short every hour to amuse himself while Nezumi went out to meet the catcalls of the audience. Nezumi calmly listened to him prattle on about his admittedly boring-as-hell upcoming seminar where Shion was to present a segment on how downsizing was somehow going to _create_ jobs within the company, but perked up when he casually mentioned his mother coming to visit in two weeks since he couldn't spare the time off for Obon this year. "I'd like to meet her. It's fine, right?"

"Ah..." Shion started, chuckling nervously. "I--suppose? I mean, I can bring her down to _The Zoo_ , if you really think it's--" He cut off at Nezumi's raucous laughter. "Wh--what?"

"Oh _god_. You're such an airhead, I love you." He waved off Shion's bemusement. "I'll just ask to come in later than usual; no need to scar her for life our first meeting." It sent something warm curling in Shion's belly--his language, his acceptance, his eagerness. The fact that he thought of this as a _first_ meeting, of more to come. "I can't imagine you and your mom sitting there at the edge of the pole platform while Inukashi grinds in your face or something."

Shion flushed at the image, but turned on the defensive. "Well--I mean, I first met you when you were working, so..." He shrugged. "She'd only need to see you outside of work to know what sort of person you are."

Nezumi leaned onto the table, head supported in one hand, and he chuckled softly. "And what sort of person am I?"

Shion cocked his head, staring into space in thought. "You're...Nezumi."

A smile. "Quite the diplomatic answer." He reached forward to take Shion's plate to the sink with his own, pausing at the fridge. "You want another beer?"

Shion shook his head, resting his eyes for a moment and slowing his breathing as he let himself relax with a full belly and blood warmed by a beer after work.

"Hey." He jerked awake at a hand on his shoulder, casting around before remembering where he was. "You dozed off," Nezumi clarified, and Shion glanced up at the clock on the wall to see he'd been out for almost a half hour. "I finished the dishes while you were out--but, it's getting late. You'll miss the last train. Like usual." He smiled fondly, squeezing Shion's shoulder, and moved to straighten back up.

But Shion shot a hand out to grab the hem of his shirt, mind still fuzzy with fatigue and a bit of alcohol in his blood, and he frowned. "I can't yet, though." At Nezumi's concerned frown, he clarified. "You still haven't told me it. Your name."

Nezumi swallowed and pasted on a smile, nodding. "Yeah... But it's late now. Come see me again tomorrow. I'll tell you then." He tugged at the hem, but found that Shion would not release him. "Oi, Shion."

"And what if--I don't want to wait til tomorrow?" He could practically _hear_ Nezumi's heartbeat rising in concert with his own. "Isn't there some other way...that I can get you to tell me tonight?"

Nezumi dropped to his knees beside the table, leaning forward to make eye contact with Shion where he sat, crosslegged and comfortable leaned against the edge of the couch. "...Shion. You're not drunk?"

He shook his head, laughing. "You'll have to turn me down properly if you want to stop me this time."

"...Fuck that." He grabbed what bits of Shion's clothing he could to jerk him closer and rose up fully onto both knees, bringing their mouths together with only a bit less force but substantially more mutual pleasure than their first kiss. Shion's fingers scrabbled against his shirt, trying to grab a nipple through the thick material, and Nezumi laughed into a kiss at his obvious inexperience and eagerness. He thrust a tongue into Shion's mouth to try to instruct him how to obtain maximum pleasure this way, guiding Shion's exploring hands to show where to stroke, where to grab, where to cup and jerk and demonstrating his lessons on Shion himself.

When Shion found a rhythm he liked stroking Nezumi through his pants, he responded with a hiss of pleasure and quickly pushed him away, setting some distance between them and trying to rise up onto shakey knees. At Shion's confused expression, which looked almost comical given how his cheeks were flushed and his lips red and swollen from kissing, he reassured, "My bed's way more comfortable than the living room rug, trust me."

Shion balked. "But--I thought..."

"What?"

"You said--you don't sleep where you fuck, though."

Nezumi laughed, a harsh bark, and nodded. "I did, didn't I? Fine, new rule: I don't sleep where I fuck people who aren't Shion. Better?" The only response was a tightened grip against his hand, fingers laced tight and pressing their palms flush together as they stumbled into the bedroom.

As he wasn't at work and really neither of them could stand much more foreplay at the moment, Nezumi put little effort into a striptease and instead just started shucking clothes at light speed, pace rising as he watched Shion do the same. When it looked for a moment like he was considering folding his clothes and placing them neatly aside, Nezumi reached around the side of the bed and pulled him down, enjoying the way they bounced against the mattress like children, laughing and breathing hard and touching and stroking and having _sex_. Nezumi regained his senses quickly and leaned over Shion, who'd wound up on his back, and pressed a strand of hair behind an ear. "You're way sexier than I thought you'd be like this."

Nezumi was going to have to accept that Shion was going to be a permanent shade of red at times like this, he supposed. "You've probably had better."

Considering this for a moment, he cocked his head in thought, stroking a finger down his chest. "...What you lack in experience, you make up for by being Shion."

Shion couldn't help the way his lips quirked up at the corners from the compliment, and he tried to focus on something else--anything else--in the room besides his friend leaning over him, flushed and half-hard and looking like he'd stepped out of one of those love sonnets Nezumi liked to quote. _Let not my love be called idolatry_. "...Nezumi."

"Hm?"

"...It's not cause you kissed me that time, right?"

"...What?"

Shion shifted up onto his elbows, eyes cast down and to the side, ashamed he was even asking. "I got the kiss--I get to fuck you. That's what you said, but--just, that's not why I..." He swallowed and closed his eyes, suddenly wishing he could take back the last thirty seconds and get a do-over.

There was a long beat of silence. "...You're such an airhead, you know." A soft chuckle, and he pressed Shion back down onto his back, sitting up straight to tower over him and reach off to the side for a bottle of oil, shaking his head all the while. "Of course it's cause I kissed you, idiot. You think I picked you out of that crowd because I _didn't_ want to fuck you?" Shion's frown grew sour, and his flush deepened in humiliation, but Nezumi leaned forward until their noses almost touched, pressing his shoulders to the bed to hold him in place. "But I'm off the clock now. So if you're worried this has anything to do with whatever happened on stage before all those nasty, ogling onlookers, you can stop thinking so hard--you're bound to break something." Shion took a half-hearted swipe at him, and Nezumi dropped the bottle of lotion onto the bed, nearly spilling its contents. "Oi oi, watch it--we need that."

"You're being an asshole."

"I'm always an asshole; if you had a problem with it before now, you probably shouldn't have worked so hard to seduce me."

"I _was not trying to_ \--"

"No need to boast, Shion. It's not polite." Shion opened his mouth like he wanted to protest this as well, but whatever he was going to say died in his throat when Nezumi rubbed a slick hand over him, fingers forming a tight ring and pressing down on his cock. "Ah--I guess I know how to get you to shut up now. Spread wider for me."

Shion flinched, biting his lip as Nezumi worked to prepare him. "This--doesn't quite feel like I expected..."

Nezumi snorted, drizzling a bit more lotion onto his open palm. "What'd you expect it to feel like? Fairy wings fluttering against your ass or something? It's sex, not an anal massage." When he noticed Shion tense at the suggestion, he laid a hand on his forearm, rubbing a thumb gently across his wrist. "It gets better though--I promise. I should know." Shion rolled his eyes. "You can try it on me next time, if you want." Shion's cock, red and half-hard straining against his stomach, perked up at this suggestion, and Nezumi laughed. "I guess you _are_ a normal guy after all."

"Sh--shut up, it's a perfectly natural rea-- _ah_!"

"Don't--tighten up, dammit, relax! You're gonna slice my dick off if you keep flexing like that, geez."

"You-- _tell me_ when you're gonna stick it in, then! Of course I'm gonna be tense when you're--"

"I'll send you a _singing telegram_ next time--just relax already!" He snapped the command with a huff of annoyance, and Shion felt a pang of guilt shudder through him, trying to relax muscles in places he wasn't used to focusing on and praying Nezumi hadn't been _serious_ about Shion possibly slicing his dick off. Could you reattach those? Hadn't someone done that in the news? How did you go about explaining how it had happened? Was there precedent? Was this sort of thing fairly commonplace among homosexual couples? _Oh god_ were they a couple now?

"Stop thinking so fucking much, geez. It's almost as bad when you're doing it all out loud..."

"Ah--sorry. I was just trying to concentrate..."

"It's better now," Nezumi reassured him, giving a little thrust for show and seating himself that much deeper within Shion. At the keening cry this pulled from him, and chuckled. "See? Not so bad once you get used to it..."

"Says--the guy--on top..." Nezumi shifted on the bed, pressing Shion's hips forward a bit to change the angle, and gave another small thrust, and this time Shion saw stars behind his eyes, curling into a ball in a sharp spasm. "Oh-- _fuck_. _Fuck_."

"Says the guy on bottom..." Nezumi crowed. "I'm gonna move some more--you'd better not come too soon, either. There's a fine line between feeling flattered and annoyed."

"You can't possibly--expect me to control that kind of thing."

Nezumi shrugged and braced his hands along Shion's thighs. "Well, I suppose if it's too soon for my liking, we'll just have to keep working at it."

Shion threw his head back when Nezumi pulled back and pressed in again to full hilt in one long, smooth movement. "Nezu-- _mi_!" With each subsequent thrust, in a gradually rising cadence, he repeated the name. "Nezumi... _Nezumi_..."

"Can't you...say anything else...?"

Shion shook his head fiercely. "'S all I can--think about-- _fuck_."

Nezumi made a noise of defeat, huffing softly. "Stop saying such ridiculously sexy things when I'm trying to keep it together here."

"You can--say my name then."

"Fair enough," he allowed, and renewed his efforts with more stacatto thrusts, punctuating every other harsh slap of flesh against flesh with _Shion Shion_ until they were coming too quickly to keep time and all he could manage was, "Shit--Shion, I'm--"

It was hard to tell between them who would get bragging rights over the other for having climaxed first, but they neither one cared too much for several long moments after peaking, both breathing too hard and trying to calm their racing hearts while lazily wondering how imperative it was that they get cleaned up before just drifting off to sleep in the conveniently placed bed beneath them. Nezumi eventually worked up the strength to roll off of Shion and strip away the condom he'd managed to roll on in his haste, listening to the sound of it slapping the inside rim of the trashcan by his bed with a satisfying _schlop_ , quite pleased with himself. "And _that_ , Shion, is how we fuck in Tokyo."

Next to him, Shion snorted his indignance. "Don't get too full of yourself."

"The best you've ever had, right?"

Shion rolled onto his side so that Nezumi could see for himself his disapproval. "Only for lack of any comparative data."

" _Any_? Seriously?" Shion flushed in humiliation, shifting over to his other side to put the problem out of sight, out of mind, but Nezumi lifted up onto his arms, straddling Shion's chest to lock him in, and lowered himself down slowly to steal another long, languid kiss of apology, nipping and kissing at the corners of his mouth. "I guess we'll just have to rinse and repeat to prove it wasn't a fluke, then." Shion giggled against his lips and reached his arms up to wrap around Nezumi's neck pulling him closer and squeezing tight enough to burst.

"I have it on good authority you're _that good_ ," he allowed between kisses. "But I do like to ascertain these things for myself." Nezumi saw no reason to object to either point.


	2. Pretty Little Animals on Parade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [sequel of sorts to _All the Pretty Little Animals_ ] Shion drags Nezumi home to meet the In-Laws.

Nezumi shifted in place, sneakers crunching against the gravel beneath his feet as he waited impatiently for the clicking and clanging of iron wheels against rail to die away, the incessant rattling slowly fading as the commuter train zoomed past the little crossing separating he and Shion and a dozen other residents of the little offshoot town they'd found themselves in from the cozy neighborhood tucked away behind the station.

Shion's profession that his mother lived in 'Chiba' had been decidedly generous. Sure, they were in Chiba--but they were so far off the main line that Shion had shaken his head and pointed to an old paper ticket machine at the last changeover, confessing with an embarrassed flush that, "They haven't installed Suica readers yet…" Nezumi couldn't recall the last time he'd traveled so far off the beaten path that you actually had to purchase physical stubs, but he said nothing untoward, just eyed Shion carefully and purchased the appropriate fare, heart feeling a little lighter and less like an iron weight in his stomach when Shion had brightened as he pointed out the sign noting when their next train would be by to take them the final leg of their journey and grabbed Nezumi's hand in his own to jerk him forward.

Which left them here, in the middle of Bumfuck-chou, Chiba-ken, Japan. 

A five-minute walk, Shion assured him excitedly (and nervously, if Nezumi wasn't wrong), from his mother's shop. Shion's mother--" _Karan_. You can't go around calling her 'Shion's Mama' at dinner, honestly."--apparently ran a small bakery out of her little maisonette, refurbishing the downstairs as her shopfront and keeping the upstairs for living space. It sounded rather quaint and cozy and perfect for wherever the hell they were, which only served to discomfit Nezumi even further.

Shion, for all it was worth, seemed to be walking about with his head in the clouds. It had taken weeks of planning and organizing to manage to find time where they could both be free--free enough to make the nearly two-hour one-way trip--to have dinner with Shion's mother--with _Karan_ \--but now that he was here, plodding along a pot-hole-riddled back road, Nezumi found himself less than enthusiastic about the whole endeavor.

He wasn't really…the parent-meeting type. He wasn't the _steady relationship_ type, either. Hell, he wasn't the _relationship_ type at all, if he were to be perfectly honest with himself, but somehow he'd wound up doing a decent imitation of dating his air-headed friend for the past few months now, and he'd put off meeting the Missus for as long as possible. Despite his every effort, though, he'd reluctantly been drawn into this not-entirely-uncomfortable rut of _domesticity_ with Shion, sharing conbini bentou dinners in his dressing room between acts and quick breakfasts of toast and juice and blow jobs when time permitted, soaking up every solitary moment the could manage before work called one or the other away.

And then he'd stopped taking clients, and the jolt to his wallet was less of a blow than that to his psyche when he finally manned up and admitted to himself _why_ he felt the move necessary: not out of any sense of obligation or shame, not because Shion had asked him--Shion had never needed to, had never _thought_ to beg him not to saunter onto stage _en deshabille_ \--but because…something just seemed _off_ now.

Why would he want to spend fifteen, twenty minutes with a total stranger drunkenly rutting against him when he could listen to Shion's lilting babble as he excitedly chattered about a new computer program his division was trying that would cut processing time in half (a prospect no doubt tantalizing to office drones) which meant fewer days putting in overtime and maybe that meant he could take up some after-work hobby like ikebana or aikido? What was a bonus of ten thousand a client serviced compared with the sick thought that, if Shion kissed him later that evening, he might have to taste the nasty, tarred mix of cigarettes and absinthe.

What was the point in fucking anyone else, for any reason, when the pleasures of Shion's eager, uneducated fumblings far outstripped the rewards he might earn on his back at The Zoo?

Shion never asked if they were dating, and Nezumi never insinuated as such. He didn't think of themselves as 'boyfriends'--that all sounded so… _grade-school_ , pedestrian even. But didn't it mean _something_ when you slept with someone on a fairly regular basis, put thoughts of them before your own when you'd never known yourself to have a selfless bone in your body--when you _met their mother_?

If one of them had been a chick, this surely would've been a hell of a lot less complicated, but as it was, Shion was Shion and Nezumi was a glorified prostitute, really (former prostitute? Could he call himself that? Was he supposed to put it on his resume now? "Career-related skills: Can fellate to orgasm in 90 seconds"), and so they were left in this awkward limbo that didn't seem all that awkward for Shion but for Nezumi felt like being stuck perpetually at the apex of an arc, his heart in his throat and his stomach simultaneously weightless and heavy as iron, leaving him a little nauseated and a lot confused and worried, clinging to the faint hope that eventually he'd float back to earth, little worse for wear, and everything would make sense again.

But tonight--tonight was dinner with Karan, and Nezumi was shuffling along in street clothes he now worried were far too casual for meeting the woman who'd made Shion the entrancing idiot he was, fingers clenched white-knuckled around the base of a handsome bouquet of purple orchids.

"My mother hates flowers, you know."

Nezumi froze in place, shooting Shion a panicked look as horror flashed across his features and sapped the color, until Shion knocked their shoulders together with a stifled snort, tugging him forward with a hand at his elbow. Swiftly recovering, Nezumi used his free hand to slap the back of his head, ignoring the offended _Oww…_ that followed.

"Asshole. All women like flowers."

"Safu doesn't."

Nezumi snickered. "She would if you brought them, I'll bet," and the bump he received this time was not nearly as good-natured as previously, but Nezumi ignored it, instead holding up the bouquet and surveying it with a frown. "Lady at the store told me they mean 'beautiful woman' in flower language. Whatever the hell that means."

The smile that had been perched on Shion's lips since he'd shown up at Nezumi's door that morning grew, curling at the corners. "They're really beautiful. I'm sure she'll like them."

Nezumi shrugged. "I tried to find ones that meant, 'Sorry I'm defiling your only son,' but they were out."

Shion leaned over and sniffed deeply, humming his satisfaction, and suggested idly, "Should've gone with asters."

"Huh?" Nezumi was on alert--it didn't have that playful note Shion had injected into his earlier teasing, sounding almost serious. "But--why?"

His fears were dispelled when Shion laughed, a loud bark, and leaned affectionately into Nezumi, nearly sending him toppling into a pile of garbage someone had set up outside an apartment complex. " _Because_ , duh."

Nezumi made a face and rolled his eyes, focusing on ensuring his orchids weren't crushed; on further consideration, going with asters would've been more than a bit ham-handed; only Shion would find something like that amusing. Presenting himself as a bumbling suitor intent on worming his way into Karan's good graces would hardly make a good impression (even if that was exactly what he was trying to do; the point was to avoid being _obvious_ about it).

Something poked him in his side, and he threw Shion a sharp glance. "What?"

"You're nervous."

"Yeah, and?"

Brows quirking up, Shion's smile grew fond. "You can quote _Julius Caesar_ in lace stockings to a crowd of men too drunk to remember their own names, but my mother intimidates you?"

Nezumi snorted inelegantly at the image and waved Shion off using the bouquet. "It's different. I'm not worried about impressing _them_." He paused in consideration, and allowed himself to admit, "…I doubt I'm exactly the type of person she wants her baby boy fraternizing with."

Shion stopped in his tracks, gravel crunching beneath his feet as he drew up short. "…Huh? Why would she think that?"

Nezumi turned around, drawing to a stop as well. "You're telling me she's _fine_ with you…you know, associating with someone like me?" 'Associating' was a safe word; it wasn't as crass as 'fucking' and it wasn't as implication-laden as 'dating'.

Shion immediately glanced away, lips twitching into a nervous grin, and he laughed weakly. "Oh--well, I haven't really told her much. About you, at least."

"… _What_?"

"I did mention your name!"

Nezumi threw his hands up and spin on his heel, marching forward again. "Oh, _well then_ , that takes a lot of pressure off of--"

"Well--she never asked, is all." Shion jogged to catch up, slowing again when he drew up alongside Nezumi and leaning forward to peer into his face worriedly. "Have you told _your_ parents about us?"

Something spasmed in Nezumi's chest--dark and familiar, he recognized the panic that gripped him when someone danced too close to him. Desperate to keep the less pleasant thoughts at bay just for this evening, he quickly changed the subject. "Now I've not only brought her the wrong flowers, I'm going to have to find some way to paint the fact that I'm a cross-dressing stripper in a pleasant light." Nezumi grumbled bringing a hand to his head in defeat.

Shion didn't seem fazed, simply pointing ahead to an unobtrusive little brick storefront with a sandwich board sign out front announcing the day's specials. "Just be your usual charming self and I'm sure you'll win her over."

"And if I don't?"

"Don't what?"

"Win her over." He waved the orchids as evidence. "What if she makes a _scene_? I can't deal with women who make _scenes_ , Shion."

"Kind of like the one you're making here?"

"Hold your tongue."

They drew up to the stoop, and Shion pressed the buzzer, leaning forward to try and peer through the thick curtains on the other side of the glass. A sign on the window showed the store hours--it'd passed closing time nearly an hour ago. While they waited to be admitted inside, Nezumi listening intently for the sounds of movement, Shion looped an arm through his and tugged him close, leaning in and dropping his voice with, "Just charm her like you did me."

Which was, suffice to say, about the worst advice ever, and Nezumi huffed his annoyance as he shrugged off Shion's attentions. "You needed no charming. You practically threw yourself at me."

"I did _not_."

"Gagging for me from the moment you saw me--"

"Not true! You were absolutely horrible that first--"

"Then why'd you come back?"

Shion shrank back, flushing and arranging his bag over his shoulder, suddenly bashful. "That's--like I said. You were charming."

Nezumi decided then that maybe it wasn't worth arguing about if Shion wanted to insist he was just _that_ good at seduction.

* * *

The inside of Karan's shop was as modest as the outside, reflecting in the cozy but dust-free nooks and crannies the same wending roads that Shion and Nezumi had traveled to arrive there.

Karan herself was…much like her son, as obvious as the observation may have seemed. Similar coloring, same rounded face and warm expression reflecting an open, accepting personality. She bustled about them as she welcomed them into the store, rushing forward to hug Shion and lay a chaste kiss to his cheek as soon as he was over the threshold, leaving Nezumi shifting nervously two paces behind as he waited for family matters to be settled.

"And this…" Shion at least had the good graces not to try and hold Nezumi's hand, as he very likely would have had it torn off, and Shion was quite good with his hands--so this would've been a tragic loss. "…is Nezumi."

"…Nezumi?" Her voice rose at the end, his name a very obvious question, and Nezumi recalled with no small bit of amusement the first time Shion had fumbled over his name, as confused then as he was now with Nezumi's reluctance to expound on his past, his name, and all associated with it.

Shion nodded primly, pasting on a smile as if to reassure her that it was quite all right, people went about with names akin to street vermin all the time--it was just one of those crazy quirks Tokyoites dabbled in. "Nezumi," he repeated, and Nezumi felt a hand at his lower back coaxing him forward.

Here, he finally recalled the orchids wilting in his grasp and shoved them forward, a botanical barrier between himself and Shion's mother. She gave a startled little squeak, staring down at the flowers in confusion, before hesitantly prising them from Nezumi's death grip with a gentle smile. "How lovely!" She gave them a polite sniff, and Nezumi swallowed, waiting for the other shoe to drop as Shion drew up close and settled a hand lightly at the small of his back. "'Beautiful woman,' isn't it? You're quite the flatterer, Nezumi-san."

"I lied; she loves flowers," Shion confessed in an aside, and Nezumi threw him a furious glare, its impact lessened when Karan wrapped an arm around him, taking him by the shoulders to guide him towards the stairs, beyond which lay the apartment's living space.

"It's not much," she preemptively apologized as they scaled the flight up into what appeared to be the den, a small couch and low table situated at the far side of the room, with a little dining table and two chairs nearer to the kitchen area, itself only a single-basin sink and two-burner stove. She crossed her hands before her as she allowed Nezumi to make his assessments, adding, "I suppose that's why Shion moved into the city…"

"That's _not_ it, and you know it," Shion complained, pursing his lips and furrowing his brow at her. "You know I only did it to be closer to work; it took us forever to get out here. Can you imagine my trying to commute during rush hour every day?"

Her nervous smile softened into one of appreciation, and she quickly changed topics to avoid any awkwardness. "Oh--speaking of work, what is it you do, Nezumi-san?"

Nezumi froze, hand hovering over the bowl of fruit he'd been about to take an apple from, and his throat worked as he struggled to organize his thoughts into some semblance of small talk that didn't involve explaining to Shion's mother that he wore dresses--and then took them off--for a living.

Shion swooped in to his rescue, sidling up close and clinging to one arm for show. "He's an _actor_!" he crowed, seemingly prouder of Nezumi in this accomplishment than Nezumi himself. "I've seen him perform some, even--he's _amazing_!"

"Oh my," Karan gasped, bringing one hand to her mouth. "Have I seen any of your work?" Her fingers moved to her cheek worriedly. "I don't mean to offend, of course; I don't have much time for anything more than late-night infomercials, you see. Is it--television dramas, that sort of thing?"

Nezumi opened his mouth to respond, having cooked up a rather decent stretching of the truth in the space Shion had bought him, but Shion's babbling continued on. "Oh--no, stage mostly. And older stuff, I think?" He cast a glance to Nezumi, one brow raised as if to say _Well? Back me up here!_ before adding, "I think he's done some poetry readings as well."

If Karan was at all suspicious of her son's speaking for Nezumi, delivering a detailed and largely non-factual description of his illustrious career, she didn't show it, simply nodding politely and breathily professing that, "You must let me know when your next performance is. I'd love to attend!" before slipping around to the little kitchen area to check the progress of a large stewpot, nodding in satisfaction with whatever she saw.

"Yeah…sure…" Nezumi allowed hesitantly, casting a glance over to Shion who was currently inspecting the fruit bowl himself. He wondered in the back of his mind if Shion had leapt to his rescue out of courtesy…or embarrassment--and decided he didn't really want to know just now.

They settled in for dinner a short while later after Karan directed them to set the table, reminding Shion to fetch a stool from downstairs to accommodate their guest at the otherwise two-person table. The simmering pot turned out to be a thick beef stew, seasoning exceeding Nezumi's expectations. When Shion caught his reaction at first taste, he snickered and reminded, "Mom sells food for a living; she wouldn't be very successful if she couldn't cook!" And granted baking was hardly the same as preparing savory dishes, Nezumi had to agree that Karan had the skills to back up her business.

Shion and Karan made small talk for a few moments, letting Nezumi settle into his meal, before Karan broached the sensitive topic of, "So how did you and Shion meet, Nezumi-san?"

He froze, spoon in mid-air, and quickly sent his gaze flicking in Shion's general direction--but of course _now_ the guy was busy using his spoon to dice a chunk of beef into more manageable bites and couldn't be bothered to swoop in again like before. Nezumi pursed his lips in irritation and cleared his throat, gears turning in his head at full tilt.

"Shion's--work associates. A few months back, they dropped into a cafe where I was doing a reading one evening--after work, I suppose--and we happened to strike up a conversation." There, innocent enough. "We've kept in touch ever since." _In more ways than one,_ he added silently, and Shion took a sip of his tea, smiling knowingly into the mug as if he'd heard every unspoken word.

Karan nodded, understanding. "Still, I must confess--I'm thrilled of course that you seem to be getting along so well, but you're the first friend Shion's ever invited ho--"

" _Mom_ ," Shion cut in with a sharp groan, "Don't say stuff like that! It's embarrassing." He shoveled a spoonful of rice and roux into his mouth, keeping busy before she harassed him further.

"Come now, Shion--it's nothing to be bashful about." She rested a hand on his shoulder and turned an apologetic smile to Nezumi. "He's only ever been this close with one of our neighbors, Safu--"

Nezumi's brows rose with Shion's voice as he nearly coughed his rice back up onto his plate, choking out frantically, "That's not--we don't need to talk about _Safu_ \--"

Karan simply giggled, covering her mouth and seeming to take some dark joy in her son's suffering. Nezumi found himself feeling almost fond of the way she clearly knew how to play Shion like a fiddle and settled in to watch their exchange. "She always asks about you when she comes home to see her grandmother, you know." She crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward, cocking her head. "Do you not see her much anymore? You do still work in the same office, don't you?"

Shion moved the remains of his dinner about his plate with his spoon, slumping back in his chair petulantly. "We're in different divisions. I mean, sometimes we have lunch and all--but we've got our own lives so…" He trailed off with a shrug, and that seemed to be all he was content to discuss.

Nezumi watched his reactions with interest; Safu had been a subject of curiosity with Nezumi when they'd first met--and if he'd known to look for it, he might have recognized that initial 'curiosity' as the first kindlings of jealousy--but their time together and the fact that any mention of Safu was generally brought up by Nezumi himself in teasing prodding had convinced him that the poor girl's very obvious crush was lost on Shion, his obliviousness the final nail in the coffin of what would have likely been some sickeningly sweet fairy-tale courtship. Nezumi kept meaning to drum up some sympathy for her, but he just had never gotten around to it. Pity.

Karan, though, he couldn't quite get a read on--was her teasing innocent, a simple manifestation of her maternal affections, or did she genuinely hold out some hope that Shion might bring Safu home one of these days, arm in arm with something more appropriate than ratty orchids in hand?

Karan caught his eye with a smile, sighing to herself before turning to Shion and pointedly clearing her throat. "Shion, dear, would you run downstairs and fetch the powdered sugar for me? I forgot to bring it up for the cherry cake." Shion pushed his stool out without protest. "It should be in the cupboard beneath the burners."

He nodded sharply and quirked his brows at Nezumi in a mental _be right back_ , as if Nezumi needed reassurance, before darting downstairs while Karan busied herself slicing their dessert.

Nezumi waited quietly, twiddling this thumbs and acutely aware of the fact that he was alone with Karan now, and settled on focusing his thoughts, keeping his breathing calm and even. This was ridiculous; he could strut down a catwalk in material which left nothing to the imagination to the jeers and catcalls of a drunken, rowdy audience, but a middle-aged single mother who clearly thought him underfed had him stricken on the spot.

"So how long have you and Shion been seeing one another?"

It was fortunate Nezumi had finished his meal, for he likely would have choked on whatever he'd just put in his mouth otherwise. Was he imagining things, or had there been a _tone_ she'd taken with 'seeing one another'? Maybe that was just the local dialect coming out; maybe that was how they spoke here in Bumfuck-chou.

He reminded himself to breathe and pretended to be very interested in his tea, regretting having finished it off earlier, leaving him with no way of wetting his very dry palate now. "I…well, I mentioned earlier, I think? I ran into him at a cafe a few months back--" He cut himself off when she tittered in genuine amusement, rinsing her hands off in the sink before mopping them dry with a towel and sidling back over to the table, where she slipped onto the stool Shion had recently vacated.

"Surely you were a gentleman, though, and didn't, ah, _woo_ him right away?"

Nezumi opted to choke on his tongue, voice going high. "I-- _excuse me_?"

She settled her chin into the palm of one hand. "He's not very subtle--Shion." An understatement if Nezumi had ever heard one, and his brows knit in confusion as to just how he was supposed to respond to that very astute observation. "He can't come home too often, so he phones at least twice a week." When Nezumi didn't react to this, she continued with, "He speaks about you an awful lot for a casual friend he met in a cafe."

He didn't quite know what to say. "I don't…quite know what to say…"

Her smile was unmoved, perpetually amused at his discomfort, and Nezumi had the sudden insight as to just how Shion had felt earlier. "I think it's adorable: how he thinks he's keeping it a secret." Nezumi had other words to describe Shion's mental state much of the time, but he held his tongue. When the silence grew nigh awkward, she pressed, concern coloring her voice, "Did you think I wouldn't approve?"

Realizing that to continue to play dumb now would chance being disrespectful, he allowed after a dry cough, "…Well, I'm sure you can imagine that…most people probably wouldn't be thrilled to find out their only son's dating another guy." And _another guy_ was being generous; if Karan caught whiff of Nezumi's tawdry past--tawdry _present_ \--he'd probably never have to worry about trekking out here to the middle of nowhere again. That at least was a silver lining. He added, to bolster his case for keeping mum about their relationship, "Plus most old ladies I know are baby-crazy--" And Karan's brows leapt into her hairline, setting Nezumi to frantically correcting himself with, "I mean--n-not that you're _old_ or anything, just mothers in general--and I'm sorry, that was a really shitty thing to say-- _fuck_ , a crappy thing to say-- _FUCK_ \--I mean, god _dammit_ \--" He slapped a hand to his mouth before any other curse words could worm their way into the awkward stillness between them, but let his fingers fall away when he noticed Karan's shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.

She dabbed at her eyes with the hem of her apron, huffing in satisfaction. "I do hope I get to hear the whole story some day."

"What story?" Shion topped the landing, lifting a paper bag in one hand. "It wasn't where you said it was at all; I found it in the pantry, behind the brown sugar."

"Oh, didn't I say to look there?" Her feigned innocence was lost on Shion, it seemed, who only shook his head affectionately and passed her the parcel, taking his seat back when she rose to slice their dessert.

He leaned forward, arms crossed over the table, and offered a hesitant smile. "…So?"

Nezumi flicked his gaze over to the kitchen, where Karan was humming softly to herself and slicing handsome portions of pastry. "So, what?"

Shion at least had the good sense to keep his voice low. "Do you like her? Did you at least enjoy the meal?"

Nezumi gave him a funny look, not entirely sure what he was getting at. "I--of course. Did you think I might not?"

He shrugged, obviously not thrilled with the response. "It's…important to me. That you like her."

"I'd think it would be more important that _she_ like _me_ ," he muttered, and before Shion could prod him to repeat himself, Karan had returned, expertly balancing three plates between two arms. Setting the chipped plate down for herself, she left Shion and Nezumi to divvy up the remaining two pieces while she fetched fresh silverware.

Nezumi indulged in the sweet tartness of the pastry while Shion and his mother conversed, letting the pleasant drone of their chatter flit in one ear and out the other. He'd had meals with Shion a dozen times before--they made an honest effort to actually _sit down_ in some place that was not a bar and actually try to be something resembling a couple, even though they neither one of them had ever broached that topic, leaving it an unspoken understanding between them because, well, Nezumi liked to think he preferred it that way.

But…this was different. This wasn't just _Shion_ , this was someone Shion cared for, trusted, likely far more than Nezumi himself, and Karan seemed nice enough, but _Did you think I wouldn't approve?_ was far from resounding, enthusiastic well-wishing, and the fact remained that she still didn't know Nezumi from Adam so why _should_ she approve of their seeing each other?

"Nezumi?" Shion's voice cut through his thoughts, and he blinked in rapid succession as he came back to the present. "Are you going to finish your--?"

Without further prompting, Nezumi shoveled what was left of his portion into his mouth, swallowing with some difficulty and offering Karan a nervous smile. "De--delicious," he offered by way of explanation, and bit his tongue in disappointment when the smile she returned carried much the same emotion.

* * *

Somehow or another it had been decided that Nezumi and Shion would spend the night, bunking in Shion's old room after Karan rooted around in a closet and pulled out a dusty old futon. She flushed in embarrassment at not being better prepared and hurried outside to hang it up where it might catch the fading rays of sunlight and lose its musty scent in the evening breeze whipping up. Nezumi tried to stop her, protesting that she really didn't need to go through the trouble, but she simply tossed back in a teasing tone, "But then where would you sleep? In Shion's bed?"

It was getting difficult to ferret out whether she was being serious or not, and Nezumi wisely backed down and let her continue to fuss over sleeping arrangements.

While she busied herself outside, Shion took him by the hand and marched upstairs, Nezumi in tow, silent and smiling nervously as he led Nezumi into his room. From what he'd heard, it had been nearly six months now since Shion had moved out, but his room was still immaculate, the wooden surfaces freshly dusted and an open window sending fresh air and dying sunlight spilling over everything; having seen Shion's own apartment in Tokyo on several occasions, he was confident the state was mostly thanks to Karan's likely tireless upkeep.

The window overlooked a small backyard where Karan had started a little kitchen garden, bright green shoots strutting up tall and proud against a brown backdrop. "Surprised she doesn't have any flowers…" Nezumi commented idly, turning at the sound of creaking springs as Shion slumped to his bed.

"It's enough work keeping up the garden as-is; I think I'll help her till a new bed next Spring, though. She deserves some color around here."

Nezumi _hmm_ ed softly and sidled over, pausing to stand in front of Shion as he took in the room before being unceremoniously tugged down to sit beside him on the bed, nearly flopping into his lap. "Watch it," he groused, then frowned when he remembered where they were. "…You're sure it's okay? Staying here tonight."

"Hmm? Why wouldn't it be?"

"We've both got work in the morning…"

Shion shrugged. "I'll get an early start; it won't be too much trouble to head back to my place to shower and change before I head in to the office. And you don't have to be in til the afternoon, right? So you can take your time, maybe have breakfast with my mom and--"

"Wait-- _what_? You're leaving me here-- _alone_ \--with her?!" When Shion raised a brow at this in clear concern, Nezumi colored, covering his mouth. "I--that's not it, I mean…"

Shion brought his hands to his lap, teasing the fingers of one hand with the other, and his words came slowly and carefully, warily even. "You…don't like her?"

"Eh?"

"My mom," he clarified, voice trailing off into a mumble with the dip in his mood. "I thought everything was going well, so what--"

"I _said_ ," Nezumi huffed, wiping a hand over his face, "That's not it. I didn't mean…whatever it sounded like."

"Then _what_?" And Nezumi _hated_ that tone; he'd didn't field desperation well in general, and coming from Shion's mouth, it made him feel all the less worthy of responding, like nothing he might be able to muster up could possibly excuse whatever he'd just said or done. He felt a tug on his shirt sleeve as Shion pressed, "Well?"

"Just…it's really not a--"

" _Nezumi_."

Patronizing, now--that was something he knew how to handle, and Nezumi brushed off Shion's grip, pushing himself back up as he paced the room. "I'm not going to just--lay all my shitty self-confidence and trust issues at your feet, Your Highness. Sorry."

After a beat of silence, Shion countered as if he'd been waiting for that response: "…Do we really have to dance the 'wait until tomorrow or fuck me and I'll tell you tonight' dance again?" Nezumi's arms fell limp at his sides, his jaw hanging open as he realized the corner he'd just been backed into--corners fucking _sucked_.

"…That's _not_ what I meant."

Shion's brows quirked in amusement, his mood lifting at having successfully turned the tables. "You keep saying that. Not that I'd ever object to, you know, _that_ \--"

"Such a way with words, this guy."

"--but it'd be nice now and then to be able to get a straight answer out of you without having to shuck my pants."

Nezumi slipped into the chair at the small desk on the far side of the room. He tugged idly on the chain dangling from a lamp that overlooked the desk, turning it on and off a few times before he was satisfied. "…It's not that I don't like your mom. I just don't think _she_ likes _me_."

He could hear the frown in Shion's voice. "You mentioned that earlier, too. Why would you think that?" A pause. "… _I_ like you, after all."

Nezumi snorted, flicking the little ball that hung from the lamp's chain. "You're sleeping with me."

"That's _not_ why I like you--" And at Nezumi's pointed glance, he amended, "…Okay, that's only _part_ of why I like you." He sighed, defeated. "You seemed to be getting on so well…"

Finally caving, Nezumi allowed, "Well--maybe it's just my imagination?"

"Maybe…" Shion picked at a thread coming loose from his pillow. "What if we--"

A knock at the door cut him off, and Karan stuck her head inside, her hair now tucked away under a handkerchief tied around her head. "The bathroom's free, and I've checked to make sure the water heater's on--if you'd like to get your baths tonight?"

"Oh--right." Shion glanced over to Nezumi. "I'll take first shower then, I guess?" Nezumi shrugged ambivalently, and Shion busied himself rifling through a chest of drawers for the bits of clothing that didn't make it to Tokyo. 

Nezumi leaned over the back of the chair, resting his chin on his crossed arms. "...You sure we can't go back tonight?"

Shion favored him with an affectionate but long-suffering glance and shook his head. "C'mon, it's just the one night. Maybe things will look better in the morning?" Nezumi made a sour face, twisting around and pulling open the small desk drawer to see what trouble he could get into. "I'll be back in a few--you'll survive without me?"

"Somehow managed to do so thus far." He waved Shion away, watching him pad off down the hallway with a frown.

He _wanted_ Karan to like him--really he did. Karan liking him meant her liking his seeing Shion, and her liking his seeing Shion meant...well, something. It obviously meant a lot to Shion himself, and that in turn made it important to Nezumi--for some reason. He didn't strike Nezumi as the type to keep things from his mama, and they obviously shared a close bond...so that the guy hadn't brought up their relationship in any manner beyond platonic...well, it was kind of worrisome. He didn't want to be this seed of mistrust coming between their perfect little mother-son relationship.

A knock on the open door jerked him from his thoughts, and he shifted around, sitting up straight. "I hope I'm not disturbing you or anything?" Karan hazarded, holding up the mugs in her hand as a peace offering. "I brought tea."

"Th...ank you," he allowed, reaching out to relieve her of one of the mugs and bringing it to his lips, inhaling deeply and letting the soothing aroma wash down his throat and into his lungs. 

"I was only teasing you earlier, you know."

He nearly sputtered into his tea, licking his lips free of droplets. "I'm sorry?"

She settled onto the bed where Shion had been sitting. "You seemed tense; I was only trying to break the ice a bit."

"Ah..." He scratched the back of his neck with one hand, not sure exactly how to respond to the confession. "I don't...really do that well when I'm put on the spot, I guess."

"Even though you're an actor?" Her smile assured him she was only teasing again. "Shion likes you."

"The feeling's mutual." He spoke before he could properly frame his thoughts, and added, "We...get along. Really well."

"That much is rather obvious." She sipped her tea primly. "I won't say I'm not curious, Nezumi-san, or that he's a big boy and I don't care who he takes up with--because I am, and I do." Her smile softened from teasing to affectionate, one he'd noticed her turn on Shion several times since they'd arrived. "But there's little more I could possibly ask for than for him to spend time with someone who cares about him as much as he does them."

The mug very nearly slipped from Nezumi's grasp, and he tightened his grip around the handle, his mouth going dry. "So you...don't hate me? Or you don't-- _not_ approve, I guess?"

She stood and strode over, resting one hand on the top of his head like a child. "Even if I didn't, would you still care for him?"

He swallowed thickly. "...It would mean a lot to him--to us--if you _did_..."

She obviously didn't need any more direct an answer, for she just nodded shortly and finished off her tea. "I like you; you're sweet."

And while Nezumi didn't quite agree with the _sweet_ affectation, he was still going to chalk this up as a win.

* * *

"I changed my mind," Nezumi announced as Shion was fluffing up the guest pillow.

"Hmm?" Shion glanced over his shoulder. "About?"

"Your mom." He settled back down onto Shion's mattress, supporting himself on his elbows as he waited for Shion to finish preparing the futon. "I think she likes me." 

"Oh...well, good then! We have that in common." With a soft _yosh_ of accomplishment, he patted the futon beneath him. "All done." Tentatively lifting back onto his knees with effort, he shuffled over to the edge of the mattress and leaned onto his crossed arms, staring up at Nezumi. "...I like this."

"Hm?"

His head lolled to the side, and Nezumi could hear the fatigue of a long day in his voice. "Dinner, with my mom. It was nice--we should do it again."

Nezumi's lips quirked up at one side, and before he could stop himself, he'd reached out and threaded his fingers through the shock of brown hair, relishing the way Shion's eyes went a little glassy with pleasure at the attention. "Yeah...maybe she can come over to our place next time."

Shion _hmm_ ed his agreement for a moment--before sitting up straight, brows furrowing in confusion. "Huh?"

Nezumi's hands dropped away, and he let himself flop back onto his back, tracing shapes in the air above him so he didn't have to look at Shion. "Just...maybe we should get a place. Together. And then invite your mother over." He shrugged, as if he were simply suggesting they try a more traditional curry recipe next week instead of the retort roux from the conbini. "We could _try_ doing it in a different order, but I don't think it would work out too well."

After a beat of silence, he let his head roll to the side to gauge Shion's reaction--finding him frozen, face still a confused mess. "You're...serious?"

Frowning to himself, he shifted and reached over, letting his fingers trail down the side of Shion's jaw, where they were quickly grasped and held steady. "...I'm serious about you. So, yeah."

He opened his mouth to list all the reasons he'd drawn up as to why this was A Good Idea and not as rash a decision as it seemed (hell, as it _was_ )--but Shion interrupted him, launching himself forward and pressing an insistent kiss to Nezumi's lips, dipping a tongue in and ratcheting up the passion with a single calculated stroke. Nezumi could feel Shion smiling against his lips, giggles bubbling up between them, but whether by design or accident, the laughter soon gave way to gasping moans, his own name falling against his skin in short breaths.

Shion drew back after a moment, slinking down the bed and brushing a hand across the thin pant material of the sleep bottoms Shion had found for him--which on Nezumi's taller frame rode up nearly to mid-calf in the leg. He blew a stream of warm air across the crotch, cocking his head and keeping his eye trained on Nezumi's--and Nezumi let himself get lost in the gesture for only a moment before he quickly drew his legs up to his chest and rocked back, away from Shion to place much-needed space between them. "Shion--no, we can't--"

The expression Shion turned on him was torn, disappointment obvious. "But--why not?! You said I've been getting better!"

Nezumi wiped a hand over his face, groaning as he let his head snap back against the wall--that would hurt in the morning. "That's-- _not_ the issue." He waved a hand around them. "I'm not _\--doing it_ with you under your mother's own roof."

Shion's frown was unmoved, and he responded matter-of-factly, "You know, many hold that given there's no genital penetration, fellatio doesn't count as sexual intercou--"

Nezumi lunged forward, slapping one hand over Shion's mouth and gripping him tight by the shoulder with the other. "Don't _say shit like that_ here!" Shion's brows furrowed deeper, and Nezumi could tell he was unconvinced. "If I let you go, do you promise not to say _fellatio_ or _intercourse_ or anything that would make your mama want to slap you?"

"My mother would never slap me," Shion reasoned when Nezumi reluctantly released him, and he brought his hands up to hold Nezumi's by the wrist, keeping them close. "You were really serious, though? Before?"

Nezumi pulled away and shifted off the bed, standing up and pulling his hair free of the tie he'd put it up in after his bath, resetting the arrangement for bed. "Have I ever lied to you before?"

"...Well, no, I suppose not."

"Then stop--" He turned on his heel and bent down, pressing a chaste, dry kiss to Shion's lips, "--asking stupid questions."

"You think _all_ my questions are stupid," Shion returned with a pout, grabbing him by the wrists again and this time holding fast.

With a sigh, Nezumi stopped pulling away, instead pressing his palms to Shion's neck, sliding up and threading in his hair to cradle his jaw and press a slower, softer kiss, their lips sliding together with less fever but as much passion. "Perhaps you should just stop talking altogether, then," he suggested breathily, smiling when Shion shuddered as Nezumi's words drifted warmly across the shell of his ear. 

And Shion, being a prudent young man, knew good advice when he heard it--and complied without further complaint.


End file.
